


Mr. Strange

by Irnstrangethot



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 18:10:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15297135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irnstrangethot/pseuds/Irnstrangethot
Summary: Stephen is captured by Mordo and forced to take in the magic of the Dark Dimension from a whole new force, more powerful than Dormammu. At first, there’s no reaction to the magic but as Stephen finds himself growing more powerful, he grows more and more addicted to pain. As the dark magic grows, his boyfriend Tony Stark starts to grow worried. What was happening to Doctor Strange?





	1. 1

“FRIDAY, scan his memories”.

“Scanning memories of Doctor Strange, Sir”. Tony waited anxiously for results as he looked at his lover on the medical table. His eyes were closed, his mouth open and taking in as much air as he could.

“I’m loading his most recent memories of trauma, Sir”.

“Good, good”, Tony replied, gently caressing Stephen’s cheek. He couldn’t help but stare at the new black lines found on Stephen’s skin, pulsating and throbbing. Something was inside his boyfriend, ripping his apart from the inside out. His blood and veins had turned black and the white streak in his hair had turned more sickly grey.

“Steph...tell me what happened. We can get through this together”.

“Accessing memories...”

—

His chest heaved for air from the burns being placed by metal rods. The roots of his being were being torn apart and being stitched back together like a horrible, inhumane Picasso painting. The smell of burning skin filled his nose and he felt like throwing up. The metal was the shape of half of a heart, it curved up the muscles of his chest and as the iron smith pressed the other half of the heart he chest, he let out a scream of pain. The burning sensation calmed but began to sting from the cold air in the dusty, old cellar. The man who had pushed the metal into his victim’s skin could only smile at his work.

Stephen Vincent Strange finally had a heart.

The warnings on the walls glowed in an orange light as they reacted to stop the Sorcerer Supreme from using his magic, making him weak. It almost made his capture laugh, he was nothing without those powers. Just a human who tried to be more than that.

“I never wanted you to become Sorcerer Supreme, you’ve done an awful job so far might I add”, the capture murmured to his victim, “You’ve killed a few people, made the Avengers lose a few battles, and hell, everytime you go to fight some new fight, you almost kill that lover you got yourself”. The chains burnt Stephen’s wrist behind the chair he sat in as he tried to summon a few sparks to free him.

“We were friends once, Mordo. Listen to me, you don’t have to do this”, Stephen started but he merely got an angry hiss in return.

“You broke the rules, you shouldn’t have become Supreme. Anyone would have been better than you! You practically drew power from the Dark Dimension just to defeat Dormammu”, Mordo replied, his eyes flaming with rage and maybe even a twinkle of regret, a dash of sorrow. Stephen heaved in a breath, his body shaky from the new prints in his skin. He looked at Mordo and really took him in. His eyes looked tired and red, his stance exhausted and almost defeated, but his tone screamed rage. Black lines crawled along where his veins should be, a poison filling his blood and body. It flowed within him.

The Dark Dimension.

“You seem to be getting to know it yourself as well, old friend”, Stephen replied, his eyebrows furrowing and his tone becoming cold. Mordo seemingly rolled his eyes and set the metal bar down.

“It’s not just the Dark Dimension. It’s not Dormammu. It’s someone different, a master piece, a savior to our whole race as wizards”, Mordo corrected, “It is Ultimus”. Mordo then picked up a wooden bowl, the carving in it being symbols that Stephen had never seen before but they looked aminous, creepy even. They radiated dark magic and all its consequences.

“You may not understand now, Strange but you will soon...”, Mordo mumbled, “You will see the light that I have seen, you will know the future I know, and feel the power I feel”. Stephen felt helpless as Mordo grew closer to him with the bowl in his hands. As he got closer, Stephen could peer inside and see what it was. A thick goo of pure black sat inside. Once in a while, a thin orange light flickered in it. It was like a storm with thunder peering through its black clouds. It almost looked glittery as Mordo got as close as he wished. Stephen was memorized, his mind asking questions and working like a clock. Gears spun as he tried to figure out what it was. But he didn’t have the time to figure it out because before he could even say anything, Mordo’s fingers clenched the sides of his cheeks to force his mouth open. Stephen tried to pull away from the force but was only greeted being pulled back into place like a horse on a bridle. The liquid in the bowl was poured down his throat, Mordo murmuring old Mandarin as the thick liquid slid down Stephen’s throat making him gag. Mordo forced Stephen to swallow every drop of the liquid, which the Supreme felt was more like melted metal than anything, keeping his mouth shut until he obeyed. As soon as Stephen swallowed, his whole body felt sick like he would puke. His skin grew pale and his temples throbbed, a cold and sticky sweat collected on to his forehead and alongside his temples. He felt like he was experiencing the flu.

“We all feel sick from it but everyone experiences Ultimus’ powers differently”, Mordo murmured, “I got addicted to eating ice. I can’t stop with it, even when it freezes my teeth and burns my tongue. Did you know that too much ice can actually make your tongue bleed? It’s true yknow...anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if you became addicted to something too”. Stephen let his head hang down, letting the nausea wash over him in waves. He needed to empty his stomach, pour out that awful goo everywhere but he felt it sticking to the inside of his stomach like a hard alcohol. His heart beat wildly in his chest. He was regretting telling Wong that he would be alright by himself on this mission.

All of a sudden, the ceiling seemed to crash in, concrete flying and a bright light shining down on the two, now exposed, men. The familiar sound of thrusters being lowered and the metal settling against the floor was music to Stephen’s ears.

“Let him go, Jafar!” Tony’s familiar voice came. His words seemed to lift some fear off of Stephen’s shoulders, he felt safe now that his boyfriend was here. He heard Mordo’s hesitation, he felt his thought process, and he could tell that he knew he could win this fight. But he didn’t seem to find it worth it.

“Ultimus will come to collect soon enough”, Mordo’s threatening words came and the sound of a portal rang in Stephen’s ears as he stared at his knees, dry heaving still. He felt it close and heard a sigh of relief from his lover. The sound of Tony exiting his suit came and soon enough he felt the chains being unwrapped from his wrists, a soft gasp coming from Tony when he saw the burns. The mechanic walked around and kneeled down in front of Stephen. The wizard looked up to meet the eyes of the love of his life. Tony looked worried beyond his mind and it was only confirmed when Tony reached out a shaky hand to touch the new imprints on Stephen’s chest.

“God, what did he do to you?” Tony asked. Before Stephen could answer, he feel to his hands and knees and threw up water. The clear liquid escaped his lips as he sat in that position. His stomach heaved the water on to the cement floor beneath him, it was barely satisfying his nausea. When his stomach finally had nothing more to give up, he sat up straight and immediately an arm wrapped around him and pulled him in. Tony’s warmth felt good in the middle of the cold cellar. It felt better to be wrapped in someone’s arms instead of bone chilling chains. Stephen couldn’t appreciate and love Tony anymore than he could right now. He whispered small ‘thank you’s and ‘I love you’s to his lover, Tony hushing him and cradling him close.

Stephen’s stomach still continued to flop around and feel sick but he didn’t know that would be the least of his worries.

Stephen and Tony really had no idea what was going to happen to them nor who Ultimus was but they lived in the moment for it was happy and peaceful.

“It’s alright, Steph...I’m here now. You’re going to be ok”, Tony whispered soothingly.

Tony had no idea how horribly he had lied to his lover but he would find out soon enough.


	2. 2

The first few days Stephen was back at the compound, by Tony’s orders, the nausea kept him close to the bathroom. Tony was worried sick every day, bringing in Gatorade and toast into the bathroom every time he heard the familiar sounds of Stephen heaving everything he had in his stomach into the toilet bowl. Tony would watch helplessly as Stephen’s body became just as shaky as his hands as he sit there rubbing his lover’s back and whispering reassurance. Tony everyday checked Stephen’s vitals; his temperature, his heart rate, his insulin levels, his blood pressure, his pulse rate, and respiration rate. They all proved him healthy. Maybe he just had a bug but nonetheless Tony stayed worried. Stephen never had the time to explain, he was either sleeping or in the bathroom, throwing up half of his being.

But then on the seventh day of Stephen returning from his mission, the nausea was gone. Simple as that. Maybe it had been the medication or maybe he had finally puked the bug out of his system. Whatever it was, he was excited to wake before Tony who had recently been making him go to bed early every night. The man was tucked under the sheets, his lips partly opened as he snores softly. Stephen’s heart throbbed at the sight of his lover in bed asleep and without worry. He gently touched the soft hair atop of Tony’s head, gently curling it with one finger. Stephen gently kissed his boyfriend’s cheek and then pushed himself out from under the silk sheets. He needed to do something to repay Tony for how well he took care of him, for being there at his side twenty-four seven.  
Stephen settled on making him breakfast. Eggs benedict sounded perfect as he looked into the compound’s refrigerator in one of its many kitchens. He started simply by putting butter at the bottom of the frypan, cracking a few eggs into it, and then pulling out the toaster and putting some English muffin into the silver contraption. Soon enough he was working on cutting some green onions to put on top as everything cooked. He washed the vegetable and then placed it on the cut board that he pulled out a few minutes before. He placed the green onion down and took the knife from its holding place in the wood box on the counter.

Stephen, though he hated to brag, was amazing at cooking. He knew how to excite someone’s taste buds and he knew how to keep it healthy as well. He used only the egg whites and whole grain English muffins for the breakfast he was making. As Stephen planned the dish in his head, he started to mince the green onion out of habit. He watched the knife lean up and down, the silver glinting in the sunlight from the window in the kitchen.  
Suddenly he heard a pop from the frying pan on the stove and by being startled by the sound, the knife cut through one of his fingers that held the base of the green onion. Stephen let out a soft hiss of pain through his teeth, letting go of the knife and walking away from the counter to stare at it.

Stephen examined his finger, his eyebrows furrowing a bit angrily as he watched blood trickle down his finger and alongside his palm. The smell of copper rose to his nose as the velvet colored liquid oozed down like a slow stream. Stephen felt the pain fade into a pleasure, a sick pleasure that he couldn’t put his finger on. His eyes stared wide at the cut, his eyebrows slightly raised. Unconsciously, his other hand reached back to the counter and grabbed the handle of the knife. Without much of a thought, Stephen was opening up his old scars. The pinkish color from an event from so long ago now bleed red once again. He cringed at the pain but sighed when the pleasure came only seconds after it. With such ease, he traced the sharp, silver edge of the knife along each scar on his left hand. A tingling started up his arm as he became a little light headed from the new fresh smell of copper. He bit his lip looking at the mess his hand was now. It trembled and twitched, blood sticky and dripping onto the floor. Stephen shook his head, his trance still foggy over his eyes. The pleasure still stung his arm, prickling and tingling.

The knife was put into the sink with his magic and a bandage wrapped around his left hand when his right was available. He had to clean this up before Tony was awake. It would be unacceptable in the compound but the way Stephen felt deep down, it felt so right. So good. The sorcerer ran his right hand through his hair, feeling each strand along his palm and fingertips. What was he doing?

 

By the time Tony woke and came down to the kitchen for his normal coffee, Stephen was smiling and holding a plate of eggs benedict for the love of his life. Tony blinked at the gesture, not even sure if Stephen was fully healed or not.

“So, you really don’t feel any nausea? It just quit...like that?” Tony asked as they sat at the table in the dining room. Stephen gave a soft nod in return, using his magic to pour Tony a glass of orange juice. 

“I must have just gotten it out of my system”, Stephen replied, setting the orange juice with the flick of his finger. His boyfriend looked at him strangely, as if he were lying about his illness the whole. But the look changed when Tony’s eyes flicked over to see the bandage on his lover’s hand. He started to reach out to touch it but Stephen drew back.

“I just cut myself, no big deal. I just need to cut onions better”, Stephen said as Tony’s eyes grew a little hurt and concerned. The mechanic bit his lip a little.

“I’m just slightly concerned, Steph. I’ve never heard of anyone throwing up for six days straight to suddenly just feel better”, Tony remarked, “There was blood coming out of your mouth and your whole body shook more than your hands ever do. It’s abnormal”.

“It’s magic, Tony. I still have to figure it out”, Stephen replied, not concerned about himself too much. He trusted himself to figure it out and fix it. Stephen never did tell Tony about the black substance that had been forced down his throat like a medication, he instead blamed the sickness on the sigils on the walls of the cellar he had been held inside. Tony believed it but only because he didn’t know magic like Stephen did, he didn’t have the knowledge to see through Stephen’s lie. Tony let out a soft sigh and took a sip of his coffee.

“Alright. But honey, please tell me if you start feeling weird”, Tony murmured, looking into Stephen’s eyes. He didn’t know it but Stephen’s muscles tended at the sentence. Did Tony know? Did he miss a spot of blood on the floor? Was it obvious?

“Whatever do you mean by ‘weird’?” Stephen asked, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Tony put down his coffee, tilting his head a little to the side as if what he had said had been obvious enough to understand.

“Like if you start feeling nauseous again”, Tony explained, “Or if you get weird headaches. I don’t know, stay hydrated just in case”. Stephen didn’t realize he had been holding his breath but as Tony explained was he meant, he let out a breath. He waved off the the weird feeling sentence with a shake of his head.

“I’ll be fine, Tony. I can take care of myself. I’ll let you know if it gets past my ability to control”, Stephen started and then finished with a stern, “Which it will not. Magic doesn’t get out of my hands, simple as that”. Tony’s eyebrows furrowed, clearly not believing anything Stephen just said but he just nodded, taking a bite from the breakfast Stephen had prepared.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt from this”, Tony mumbled a little.

“I promise, I’ll be fine”, Stephen reassured.

“Better be”.


End file.
